


Breaking Into Your Life

by bocajenjy



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Multi, dorky bossuet, mah babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-03 00:09:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bocajenjy/pseuds/bocajenjy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thinking back, going out to drink with Grantaire was the worst and best idea Bossuet had ever had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Into Your Life

**Author's Note:**

> based on a tumblr post that, unfortunately, I've lost the link .O.

                Thinking back, going out to drink with Grantaire was the worst and best idea Bossuet had ever had.

                The thing is that, in that summer night, he got particularly drunk. He had been dragged to the bar by Grantaire, who was now complaining about his latest fight with their marble leader. It was just when he rolled his eyes for the third time that he saw him in the corner of his eyes.

                He was sited across the room, laughing with a girl. Bossuet found the man charming, with his brown hair, pale skin and… Oh. White teeth. Perfect white teeth. Oh-my-God-my-eyes-hurt white teeth. Bossuet could bet anything that his mouth would taste like toothpaste.

                “Are you even listening?” said Grantaire, who despite having twice as much to drink as Bossuet, wasn’t even properly drunk (yet).

                “Yeah, of course!” not.

                He turned his head towards the beautiful man and his friend (he was pretty sure they were friends, they weren’t even holding hands). Now he was laughing. Bossuet wished he could hear the sound of his laugh. The man’s head was thrown back, exposing the ski of his neck until

                _That’s it,_ Bossuet decided, _I’m going there._

And so he went. Across the bar, ignoring Grantaire’s confused eyes in his back, heading for his table. The closer he got the best view he had. The way the man’s hair fell into his fair eyes (he wasn’t sure about what color they were), the freckles in his cheeks (how many were them?), the slight quirk of his mouth (he wanted to be the reason of that) and the curve of his neck (what the texture of his skin would be, Bossuet wondered).

                His table was empty. Later, Bossuet would claim he wasn’t thinking well in the moment. But in front of the man, all he wanted to do was to make the other notice him. So he climbed on the table in what he thought was a seductive way.

                “Hello” he said, looking at the confused glances from the occupants of the table, before the object broke under him with a loud _crack_ that got half of the bar staring at him. “Oh, God! I’m so sorry! I-“

                “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?” the man seemed desperate “Do you think you can move? Did you break your column? Where does it hurt?”

                “Joly, let him breath! He is fine, you can relax” said the girl to her friend (‘Joly, his name is Joly’ a voice reminded him) holding her laughter. “ _Are_ you fine, dear?”

                Bossuet nodded “Yes, and I am so very sorry. Really, I am.” He was mortified and wanted to bury his head in the ground and disappear.

                “You probably broke your head… Are you bleeding? Do you need stitches? Let me at least check you, please…”

                “Honey, he’s already said he is fine.”

                “But, ‘Chetta, he may have a concussion and if we don’t take him to a hospital-“

                “You are sure you are okay?” the girl, ‘Chetta, asked.

                “Yes, and I’m also terribly embarrassed, I don’t know what I was thinking.” The girl laughed again, making Bossuet and Joly frown.

                “Sorry, but this is kind of funny” she explained “Really, dear, what were you thinking?” He wasn’t, and he said so with a sheepishly.

                Joly poked ‘Chetta to call her attention and whispered (even though Bossuet could still hear them) “I like him, he’s cute. Can we keep him?” Under the concerned look of the girl he added, with puppy eyes that should be forbidden in a grown man “Please?” She sighed.

                “Fine. But you feed him.” Finally succumbing, she added “It might be okay… He seems nice enough.”

                “Thanks!” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. At this point, Bossuet was completely confused. “What are you…”

                “Do you want to hang out sometime?” Joly asked with those same puppy eyes “Like a date, I mean.” Bossuet’s heart was racing “With us, me and Musichetta. If that’s okay for you.”

                Oh. _Oh._

“We would love if you accepted” said Musichetta over Joly’s shoulder. “But only after you tell us your name. Anyone without a name is a stranger, and we don’t take strangers on a date” she added, winking to him.

                “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’m Lesgles, but my friends call me Bossuet”

 

 

                And that’s how that became one of the best nights of his life. (Of course being behind the date night on the ranking, but that other night was simply inexplicable.)


End file.
